Brethren Evangelist Vol. XVII November 6, 1895 No. 44

BRETHREN EVANfcrELlBT.

Home Circle.

DOH'T BHÜB.

Don't snub a boy because he wears
shabby clothes, says an exchange. When
Edison, the inventor, first entered Boston
he wore a pair of yellow linen breeches in
the depth of winter.

Don't snub a boy because of the ignor-
ance of his parents. Shakespeare, the
world's poet, was the son of a man who
was unable to write his own name.

Don't snub a boy because his home is
plaín and unpretending. Abraham Lin-
coln's early home was a log cabin.

Don't snub a boy because he choosesan
humble trade. The author of the "Pil-
grim's Progress" was a tinker.

Don't snub a boy because of his physical
disabïlity. Milton was blind.

Don't snub a boy because of dulness in
his lesson. Hogarth, the celebrated
painter and engraver was a stupid boy at
his books.

Don't snub a boy because he stittters.
Demosthenes, the great orator of Greece,
overcame a harsh and stammering voice.

Don't snub him for any reason. Not
only because he may some day outstrip
you in the race of life, but because it is
neither kind, nor right, nor Christian.

THE GHIM1ÏEY SWALLOW'S H0ME-00MING

"Look, Francés," mamma exclaimed,
"see the chimney swallows coming home
to go tobed."

Francés looked up and saw in the gath-
ering twilight, a great number of little
birds flying over the top of a near house.

"Watch them, dear," mamma added,
"see how they fly around in a circle. See
that one drop into the chimney. That
chimney is their home."

Francés watched these soot-colored
little birds unti! nearly all had gone into
their chimney home.

The swallows flew around in a circle as
fast as the eye could follow them. A part
of the circle was above the mouth of the.
chimney, Into it the little birds could
now and then be seen to fall.

By and by the circle spread out. It
seemed as though the birds had lost the
chimney. Soon, however, it would be
seen, and making a turn, the birds would
come over it again, and down into it
would go a few morè.

The birds grew tíred going around the
same way. So off they flew to a distance.
Making a turn, they came back and flew
around the chimney the other way. Many
morè birds this time dropped into the
chimney.

Francés, thinking the chimney could
not hold all the birds in it, said, "O

mamma, the garret must be full by this
time." The flying circle, however, seem-
ed as large and dark with birds as at any
time.

Again the birds becameconfused. The
circle slowly went higher and higher,
when they would try to drop into the
chimney they would miss it.

The birds certainly agreed now that
something musa be done so they could
get into their home. So away they flew
frora the house to turn themselves again,
so that they could fly around the chimney
in the direction they had first done.

There were no other houses near the
one the birds were flying over. In retunv
ing the birds came back and flew down-
ward, then upw'ard, so as to make a slant-
ing circle. One side was low, the other
much higher in the air. The lowest por-
tion of the circle was over the mouth of
the chimney.

This proved a splendid plan for the
little birds. They cqasted down the
sloping side of he circle on their wings,
just as a boy would slide down a hill on
his sled, and tumbled into the chimney
by dozens. In less than two minutes
nearly every bírd had ritlden doWn this
slanting circle into the chimney and
jumped into their beds. No morè than
ten stragglers remained out. — Our Little
Men and Women,

PAETMERS.

A sturdy little figure it was, trudging
bravely by with a pail of wàter. So many
times it had passed our gate that morning
that curiosity prompted us to furtlier
acquaintance.

"You are a busy little giri today?"

"Yes'm." The round face under the
broad hat was turned toward us. It was
freckled, flushed, and perspiring, but
cherry withal.

"Yes'm, it takes a heap of wàter to do
a washing."

"And do you bring it alt from the brook
down there?"

"Oh, we have in the cistern mostly,
only it's been such a dry time lately."

"And there is nobody else to carry the
wàter?"

"Nobody but mother, an' she is wash-
in\"

"Well, you are a good giri to help her."
It was not a well considered compliment,
and the little wàter carrier did not con-
sider it one at all, for there was a look of
surprise in her gray cyes, and an almost
indignant tone in her voice, as she an-
swered: —

"Why, of course I help her. I always
help her to do things all the time; she
hasn't anybody else. Mothcr'n me's
partners." .

THE OLD LADY.
A picturesque figure is passing out of
society, if she has notalreaey passed. We
seldom, in the drawing room, meet the
old lady. At this moment she is to be
found chiefly in villages remote from the
railway, or if, in town, she is apt to be-
long to the distinctly poorer classes, and
to be engaged in some humble occupation
as, for ex ample, the keeping of an apple
stand, or the selling of newspapers around
the fèrries or elevated stations. Thus en-
gaged, she wears a distinctive dress, al-
most a uniform. It consists of a gown of
some very dark or neutral tint, with a
straight full skirt ending at her ankles, a
round waist, no drapery or puffed sleeves,
but severely plain and rather short ones,
leaving the wrist free; a little three- cor-
ncred shawl over the shoulders — always
that — and a hood or bonnet protecting
the hair.

These old women are frankly old.
They seem to have lived a hundred years,
and never to have been young. Their old
faces are criss-crossed like maps with in-
numerable fine lines ; they bear themselves
with a certain patience and dignity.

But they are not in society. They are
part of the world outside, which does not
exist for the sheltered and guarded well-
to-do. They are like the peasants in
French pictures, as straight-forward, as
child-like, as innocent, as camly indiffer-
ent to fashion. What have they do do
with it? — what has it to do with them ?

In the strenuous struggle to retainyouth
or the semblance pi it, which is the foible
and weakness of our period, the old lady
has a difficult time of it just now. The
masseuse labors to efface her wrinkles,
those time revealing marks, which, brave-
ly worn, have a beauty of their own. She
tries cream and ungüents, hot wàter and
cold wàter, galvanism and steam, that her
skin may remain as soft, as rose-hued, as
flexible as it was at twenty. In this there
is no harm, but, did she only know, there
are plàcid old faces among the Friends
and among the Shakers, too, which have
kept off wrinkles and retained shape and
smoothness solely by the spirit's inward
light, and peace and help. — Harper's Ba
zar.

There will be no Christian without a
Gethsemane, but every praying Christian
will find that each Gethsemane has its
àngel. — Ex.

A closer walk with the spirit may save
a man from so much countermarching in
his course to fall in step with Provídence.
— Ex.

Praykrs are but putting proraises o
suit. — Reformat Church Messenger.